


away with the fairies

by atimi (bertee)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abduction, Breathplay, M/M, Mind Control, Non Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-11
Updated: 2011-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-28 00:11:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/301613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bertee/pseuds/atimi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oberon's fingers are long and brittle when he reaches out to grip Dean's jaw</p>
            </blockquote>





	away with the fairies

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the blindfold_spn request of "I want to read about Dean servicing Oberon, king of the Faerie."

Oberon's fingers are long and brittle when he reaches out to grip Dean's jaw, like twigs stretching a glove of human skin, but his voice is almost warm when he speaks to one of the faerie holding Dean on his knees, "You made a good choice." He forces Dean's lips open with curved fingertips and smiles at whatever he finds there. "He's so new."

His eyes lock on Dean's and the spark of Dean's desire to bite down on those spindly fingers is snuffed out even before it can flare into a fully-fledged idea. Oberon's eyes are bright and silver and Dean sees them echoing behind his eyelids as he blinks and opens his mouth wider for Oberon's inspection.

Oberon slides his fingers in easily, his gaze somewhere between lecherous and curious, and even the reflexive twitch of Dean's tongue stills under his touch.

"How new are you?" Oberon asks, withdrawing his fingers and smearing the saliva on Dean's bare chest.

The faerie behind him tighten their grip on his arms but Dean's lips form an answer without their prompting, "Thirty-two."

He gasps in pain at the sharp slap that follows. Oberon's fingers sting like a cane as they smack against his skin and Dean scrambles to get his feet underneath him as Oberon grabs his jaw and pulls him up until they're standing eye-to-eye.

The murmurs of the faerie in the court rise to an excited hum and Dean feels his nakedness even more keenly now that he's standing and exposed in front of all the unseen voices. The two guards release his arms and despite knowing that he should want to run for his weapons and fight Oberon off, he can't force himself to move away as Oberon leans in closer.

"The truth," Oberon demands, raking his fingers down Dean's chest. "How new are you? When were you made?"

It clicks then and Dean feels a new bliss settle over him now that he knows he can give Oberon the answer he wants. "Three years," he says, biting his lip against the pleasure that seems to emanate from Oberon at the answer. "I- I guess I got re-made."

Oberon taps his fingers on Dean's chest and circles him with an approving gaze. He trails his hand along Dean's ribs, leaving a warm lull in his wake, before skimming down his spine to dip between the cheeks of his ass and press up against his hole.

Dean stifles a groan as one long, inhuman finger slides up inside him but the expected burst of painful friction never follows, and his cheeks heat as Oberon presses his finger against his inner walls, only to find Dean as wet and ready as a girl. The heat of embarrassment spreads down his shoulders until his chest is tight with humiliation when Oberon pulls out to let some of the wetness drip down to Dean's balls, and he finds his cock is already hard by the time Oberon walks back around in front of him.

"Whoever put you together did a good job," Oberon says.

Through the fog of magic that's filling his head, Dean manages to dredge up some amusement at the thought of Cas repairing him just so he can be virgin-tight for a fucking faerie king, but even that thought is sent skittering away when Oberon holds his chin again. Dean tries to focus on his face, on the neat beard lining his chin, on the hollowness of his cheeks, and on the swirls of vine-like patterns which coil up the side of his neck, but he can't avoid Oberon's silver eyes as the king asks, "Will you serve me, Dean? Will you put this bright new body to good use?"

Dean wants to say no, wants to get the fuck out of there and go back to Sam to work out how to kill faeries instead of aliens, but Oberon's eyes are so so bright and the words leave his mouth before he can stop them, "Yes, sir."

Oberon smiles, reaches out, and grabs Dean by the throat.

It's like the world is being ripped out from under him when Oberon cuts off his air and whirls him around with super-human speed before slamming him back against his throne. He's on him in an instant, strong, lean body trapping Dean in place as he pushes Dean's legs wide enough to let them fall over the sides of the throne. Dean squirms in position, turned on but embarrassed to be spread out and dripping wet in front of Oberon, the court, and the faerie who'd subdued him in the first place, but the burble of whispers fades out when Oberon leans in to curl his fingers around Dean's throat once again.

"Tell me what you're here for," he demands. "Tell me your purpose in my court."

"To serve," Dean gasps, splayed and wanting and needy. "To service."

Oberon's fingers move lightning-fast to free his dick and Dean grinds down when he feels it press against his slick hole. "Again," Oberon orders. "Tell me who you serve."

"You," Dean says. Darkness dances at the edge of his vision from lack of air but he keeps talks, using the last of his oxygen to profess his obedience. "I serve you, sir. I'm here to serve you."

He arches back with a yell as Oberon pushes inside, and struggles for breath as every spark of Oberon's pleasure ripples through him too. His whole body seems full, his hole stuffed with Oberon's dick and his chest bursting for air, and he sinks into it, floating on the high of magic and sex and anchored only by the hand on his throat and the cock holding his ass open.

Oberon thrusts in deep and fast, faster than Dean's sluggish mind can comprehend, and he writhes in position, spreading his thighs wider to increase the force of the waves crashing through him. Oberon's hand is still on his throat and as much as he thinks he might die like this, suffocated, fucked, and enslaved, he can't come down from the high and he can't stop chasing something higher.

If he could speak, he'd be babbling, letting out a stream of mindless, careless desperation as Oberon fucks him raw, but as it is, he settles for wordless moans as he rolls his hips into Oberon's thrusts as quick as he can, wanting so bad to be good enough to come.

Oberon's face is a blur and Dean's awareness keeps fading until all he can feel is Oberon's dick pounding into his ass and Oberon's long, brittle fingers stretched around his throat. His own dick barely even registers anymore and Dean fucks down desperately onto Oberon's cock, wanting release for his master even more than he wants to come himself.

He starts at the shock of Oberon letting go of his throat and he arches back a second later as Oberon pushes his dick deeper inside his ass than Dean ever though he could take it. He cries out in helpless shock as the rush of Oberon's pleasure carries him away too, sending come spilling from his dick and air flooding back into his lungs as Dean loses himself in his orgasm.

Dazed and delirious, he comes hurtling back down when Oberon pulls out, leaving him even wetter than he was at the start. His throat aches too much to speak but he blinks up in confusion when he sees Oberon stroking himself to full hardness again before he's even caught his breath.

Whatever instinct he has left gets him backing up as much as the throne will let him but the panic soon ebbs out of him when Oberon closes his hands around his ankles and firmly coaxes his legs back apart again. He looms over him, tall and unruffled, and Dean can't help but tilt his head into his touch when Oberon rests his fingers on his neck and asks again, "Tell me what you're here for."

The fucked-out ache in Dean's body transforms to a soothing hum thanks to the magic that laces Oberon's words. As much as he knows better, he can't stop himself from complying with Oberon's order and he meets those bright silver eyes once again as he chokes out, "To serve you."


End file.
